‘You are an idiot. You fooled me, you laughed at me, and now you don’t know why you are here.’
‘Fooled you, my lord?’ Ramus was mystified. ‘In what way?’ The Finance raised his crop again. Ramus shrank back, automatically lifting his arm to protect his face.
‘In what way?’ repeated the Finance angrily, slashing the crop across Ramus’s forearm. The apothecary cried out in pain. ‘In what way? Did you not know that we were sworn enemies?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Yet you tricked me into buying one of his daubs?’
‘No, my lord. You ordered me to speak to the artist. You recall? You came to my house and saw my painting. I told you the artist did not want his name revealed. When you said you desired a painting I came to the Moidart and told him. He created something beautiful for you. It was not a daub.’
‘I expect the Moidart found it most amusing.’
‘I think he did, my lord, but he found cause to regret it.’
‘Do enlighten me.’
‘You paid seventy-five pounds for it. Within a year his paintings were fetching double that. This year the value has doubled again. I think it irked him that your painting was now worth four times what you paid.’
‘I don’t care what it is worth. When I return home I shall take great pleasure in slashing it to shreds with my sabre.’
‘Why?’ asked Ramus.
The crop lashed out again and again. Ramus fell to his knees, his hands over his head. The crop brought blood from his wrist and he cried out.
The Finance stepped back. ‘Do not question me, little man. Your life hangs in the balance. What was your relationship with the Moidart?’
‘He is my friend,’ said Ramus.
Suddenly the Finance laughed. ‘Your friend? The Moidart has no friends. He is a serpent, cold-blooded and vile. Get up.’ Ramus struggled to his feet. There was blood upon his face and hands. ‘How can you talk of friendship with a monster? Did you know that he killed his own wife? The man has no soul.’
‘I disagree, my lord.’
‘By the Source, you are an impudent wretch. Have you not yet had enough of my crop?’
‘I have, my lord. It frightens me. You frighten me.’
‘Then why do you persist in annoying me?’
‘I thought you wanted to hear the truth.’
‘So you can prove he has a soul?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Then what truth can you offer me?’
‘His wounds, my lord. Many years ago he sustained a wound to his lower belly. It never healed. Then he was burned saving his son from a terrible fire. Those burns have never healed. There is no reason for them not to heal. I have given him many herbal lotions that would, in all other men, encourage healing. They don’t heal because he does not want them to heal. They are his punishment against himself. A man with no soul would not punish himself so.’
‘Perhaps they are a punishment from on high – from the Source Himself. Have you thought of that?’
‘No, my lord, but it seems to me that if the Source chose to punish all evil men in such a way I would have seen it before. There is no shortage of evil in the world. Mostly, however, evil appears to prosper.’
‘Are you, by chance, suggesting that I am evil?’
‘No, my lord. I have never heard it said that you are evil. You are merely powerful.’
‘Have you heard it said that the Moidart is evil?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Yet you say he is your friend. A man should choose his friends with care. You obviously have not. I shall assume that the Moidart also holds you in some regard. So tomorrow I shall watch you hang, and I will derive great pleasure from it.’ The Finance turned to the soldier who had brought Ramus to the castle. ‘Take him away and find some dark and gloomy place for him.’ He swung back to Ramus. ‘There you can think about friendship and evil and souls.’
The Finance had difficulty sleeping. This was rare. Normally he would lay his head upon the pillow and slip away into a dreamless state and wake refreshed. Tonight, however, he had suffered nightmares. In one he had been drowning in a lake, while a sea creature sank its fangs into his leg. He had awoken in a cold sweat, suffering from cramp in his left leg. In another he had been running through a wood, pursued by something he dared not look back at. Again he had woken with a start, and drunk a little wine.